


Border Nor Breed Nor Birth

by IgnobleBard



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood Play, Drama, Elves, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 00:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17777210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnobleBard/pseuds/IgnobleBard
Summary: Caranthir finds himself taken with Ulfang despite his better judgement.Thanks to Glorfindel for the speedy and helpful beta.





	Border Nor Breed Nor Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maitimiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maitimiel/gifts).



There is neither East nor West  
Border nor breed nor birth  
When two strong men stand face to face  
Though they come from the ends of the earth  


Kipling

~~****~~

Is it wrong to still miss him after all this time? I suppose it is, given he was a traitor and a spy. Many perished as a result his treachery, many more were bereft. They say there are two sides to every story, I know that is certainly true of my family. I like to think, if circumstances had been different for both of us, we might have taken a different path.

It was shortly after the _Dagor Bragollach_ that he and his people appeared in our lands. He had come to swear allegiance to my brother Maedhros. Maglor and Fingon were not entirely open to the idea of a great host of Men coming into the area so soon after our defeat. Yet the war had taken a toll on all the lands of Arda so the migration was not wholly unexpected. 

With Morgoth expanding his influence in the East, there had been a small influx of Easterling refugees into Beleriand for many years, people who wanted out from under the thumb of the tyrannical Vala. Yet never had there been a host this large. Maedhros could see only advantages in allying himself with these Easterlings, and I have to admit I backed him in his decision to give Ulfang and his followers land to build a new life. Alliances with Men had proved problematic in the past, but we had to unite with any willing to help us defeat the Black Enemy for we had found, to our dismay, we could not do it alone.

They settled in Lothlann, and for a time I was aware of their presence but did not have contact with them. Then Maedhros tasked me to council with their leader and train our forces together in the fight against Morgoth.

“Technically they reside in Maglor’s territory. Why must I be the one to meet with him?”

“Because, though you may not be the most diplomatic of us, you did a remarkable job with the Haladin and they certainly proved their worth. Besides, just between you and me, I think it prudent to have someone get close to them to confirm their fealty.”

“You want me to spy.”

“No, just use your good judgement, as you do when your temper doesn’t cloud it. I only want an assessment and report on the situation.”

“I suppose this was Maglor’s suggestion."

“Never mind about that. Will you do it?”

“I have good, loyal people under my command, good captains and soldiers, but you know I am no strategist. If I am to train them along with my men, I would like someone with battlefield experience who can help us prepare.”

“Are you thinking of Maglor?”

“Misery loves company, right?” 

Maedhros sighed. “Very well. You set up the council and see which way the wind blows. If it is fair, I will send Maglor to assist you with the logistics and strategy.”

And just like that, I was Ulfang’s keeper. 

I chafed at the idea of being the one to befriend him, but how could I refuse when I had supported the alliance?

It took several days to prepare for the journey. I took only a few of my councilors and captains. The lands were well protected and with all we had been through there were no followers or advisers who were not also warriors so a large company was not needed.

We arrived at the camp of Ulfang’s people, more a group of villages in actuality. They had constructed both shelter and makeshift watchtowers upon the wide plain. Their fortifications were wood but there were signs of stonework in the offing. It certainly looked like they were planning to make these lands their home. I found this to be a heartening sign. The Easterlings tended to be nomadic only when living in troubled areas where attacks from fell creatures or neighboring tribes might be common. It was said that some tribes were superior horsemen and that others had the strength of the horses themselves. Either would be welcome in battle.

The gates were open for our arrival, manned by a larger group of guards than I would have expected in peaceful lands, but perhaps the caution was natural to them. We entered the village and were escorted to the Chieftain’s home. Their houses were mud bricks with thatched roofs made from the long grasses of the plain. They were clever builders and, though crude, the constructions appeared sturdy.

People were walking the dirt paths between the buildings, working or on their way to some errand. Their women wore veils over their faces but their clothing showed more skin than those of other Easterlings I had encountered. Their sleeves were short and their blouses were cut low in front, though not immodestly so. They wore loose pants like their men, which I also found unusual. I knew it to be warmer in the east during almost every season but the wind upon the plains could turn chill at night. I wondered if they changed their clothing after sundown.

Ulfang was waiting in front of his dwelling, flanked by his sons. I could tell they were his sons without being told because of their resemblance to their father. I was instantly struck by the Chieftain’s appearance. He looked a brute, shorter than the Edain I had encountered previously and more heavily built. He had a thick mustache that dripped down the sides of his mouth and long, oily black hair held off his face by a leather headband with brass studs. Upon his belt was a long dagger and his sons sported daggers as well. Apparently these people believed in being armed at all times. Though he wore a cloak with a fur collar, his arms were bare, thickly muscled and veined. I had never seen a man look like he was flexing when standing still. It made me aware of him in a most intoxicating way.

“Greetings, my Lord Caranthir,” he said in heavily accented Sindarin. “Welcome to our village.”

“It is a pleasure and an honor to have the opportunity to meet with you and your council,” I replied. “Your people are thriving it seems.”

“Yes, the land you have granted us is fair and fertile. Thanks to you and your brothers my people have finally found a home.”

We made our introductions and entered his dwelling. Inside, the floors were packed dirt with rushes and wild lavender strewn thickly over it. The furniture was of alder and pine with goat hair cushions. The house was constructed with rounded walls and in the center was a fire pit, surrounded by stone with a tubular clay chimney to convey the smoke outside. We sat around the banked fire and I explained the reason for our journey.

“I had thought the peace would extend longer,” Ulfang said. “We are, of course, always battle ready but our men are weary from years of fighting the tribes who worship the Dark One your people call Morgoth.”

“There are no plans for battle at this time,” I lied, “but if you are called upon to fight with us, it will be under my banner. We thought it best to bring our people together for training. To make sure our troops can work together in battle. I think we can learn a lot from each other that will make us stronger.”

“You’re right, of course. I should have requested this meeting myself, but I didn’t want to impose upon your already considerable generosity.” His dark gaze, though forthright, held a hint of something else. Perhaps a lie, perhaps a guarded caution. Either way the mystery intrigued me.

“We were glad to help your people and will continue to do so. It is getting late and we have had a long journey. Tomorrow I would like to get our men together for some practice drills, if that is amenable to you.”

“Good idea,” he said heartily. He put his hands on his knees and rose. “Uldor, show our guests to their quarters.”

Uldor was slightly taller and slimmer than his father but with the same solid musculature. He led us to a building a few yards from his father’s house. “Ulfang had this built when he got the message you were coming,” he said as he ushered us inside. Two people were waiting within, a man and woman dressed in simple brown tunics, belted at the waist, and the loose pants favored by these people. “These two will attend you. If you need anything, let them know.” He left abruptly without giving us a chance to reply.

I turned to the servants who openly stared at us in surprise. They had either never seen Elves before or our clothes and manner were particularly strange to them. 

“I am Caranthir and these are my men, who you will get to know during our stay here.”

They bowed from the waist in an awkward way that suggested they had been coached in the protocol. “We have water for bathing and wood for the fire,” the man said. “Ursla is cooking supper, which shall be ready shortly. Your sleeping pallets are there,” he pointed to the wall. “I am Ulbar. We are available to provide for your needs.” 

The way he said that last sentence made me a bit uncomfortable. These people were nothing like the Haladin I had come to know and trust. His speech was also less heavily accented than that of his master. Could it be these people had brought slaves onto our lands? I would have to speak to Ulfang about this, if I could figure out a way to do it without causing offense.

“Thank you for your service. We will freshen up and relax before supper.” 

“If any of you would like to bathe, follow me to the bathhouse,” Ulbar said. 

“We will take it in stages. Calegil, you and your guards go first.”

While they were bathing, I discussed our meeting with the Chieftain with my councilors. They agreed that Ulfang did not seem completely honest but felt he was only being cautious. They also suspected, as I did, that our servants might actually be slaves and felt the matter should be addressed first at the morning meeting.

The others went in groups to bathe while I pondered my options. At last, without any certainty of how to deal with the situation I found myself in, I went to the bathhouse alone.

The place was larger than I expected, with a sizeable pool and a doorway with a bear pelt curtaining the entrance. I knew from the others that this was a room where hot stones were placed in water to produce steam. It seemed the Easterlings used these rooms to sweat out the toxins in their bodies, or so they believed, before bathing in the cooler water of the pool. The floors there were lacquered wood, smooth and slightly slippery from the steam. I undressed and pulled the bear pelt aside to enter. A cloud of steam greeted me and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light provided by an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. I was trying to decide what to do next when someone else entered. It was Ulfang.

He handed me a towel without a word, but with a barely perceptible appraising glance and slight quirk of his lips that indicated his pleasure. These small nuances would go unnoticed by someone who had no reason to doubt him or watch him closely. He was covered by a towel worn low on his hips, the sparse hair on his chest and belly already damp with sweat. For a moment I forgot why I had come. I forgot about meetings and training and slaves. All the unsavory, unsettling feelings disappeared at the thought of what lay beneath that thin material.

Before I could cover myself he stripped off his towel and laid it on a bench against the back wall. He sat down, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. His cock was as thick and beefy as his arms, with a truly impressive set of balls beneath, all nestled in a thicket of jet black hair. My appreciation forced me to wrap the towel around my waist to hide my unexpectedly swift arousal. I joined him on the bench, but not too close.

“I was told your people were having supper,” he said. “Forgive me for intruding.” He didn’t sound the least contrite or even embarrassed to have walked in on a naked guest.

“I let the others take their turns first. I had a few things to do anyway.”

“Don’t you think it shows weakness to put the needs of your men before your own?” he asked seriously.

“That is not something our people consider. Sometimes the leader goes first, sometimes he defers to his followers. It is important for a leader to make sure his men are taken care of if he is to put his life in their hands.”

“In our country we are told Elves have strange ideas about leadership. How can you expect to command the respect of your men if you don’t rule them with a fist of iron?”

“Our people know what is expected of them, they do not need ruling so much as guidance, and the fearlessness of those in command.”

“Perhaps that is why you have yet to win your victory.”

I would have been offended by his words if there was any insult in them, but it was a simple matter of ideology. I may have been naive about the ways of the east but he did not understand, as did the Elves, the destructive machinations of Morgoth.

“How do you trust someone to fight for you if their only motivation is fear?”

“It is not their only motivation. They want to enrich their lives and avoid ending up as slaves of the Dark One, a fate worse than mortal death. I take it you have not much traveled into the Eastern lands.

“I have not,” I admitted. “But I know the lands have been befouled by Morgoth and that life can be harsh there.”

“You may call it harsh. To us it is simply our way. Our lands were fair before the tribes began to war among themselves, before our villages were raided by Orcs and other foul creatures. Those who want the freedom to live as they choose are leaving, as we did, or moving into unknown lands in the south. We are a strong people but we are weary of the tribal wars and raids, of losing our children and our women to those who would enslave us.”

“And yet you keep slaves,” I countered.

His bushy eyebrows went up. “The only slaves we brought with us were those who were born and raised to service. We will set them free one day soon, when we have put down roots here and know they will not come to harm.”

“Perhaps it would be best to free them now and let them decide how they wish to proceed.”

Ulfang laughed. “You know so little of our lands and our ways. Those born to service would be lost without the firm hand of a master. They would fall into idleness and crime. First they must be taught how to fend for themselves in this new land.”

I could see this was an argument that would not be settled tonight. Besides, the steam was beginning to relax my tight muscles. I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment. “We will speak more of this before I leave,” I said. “We don’t allow slavery in the free lands.”

“They will be free in time,” Ulfang assured me.

I must have dozed, for when I opened my eyes he was gone.

There was the sound of light splashing coming from the other room. I rose and took the towel with me. Ulfang was climbing out of the pool. He took his towel off a hook on the wall and wrapped it around his waist. “Perhaps tomorrow night we could meet here again. I would like to hear more about the ways of the Elves.”

This time he made a point of looking me up and down with open desire. I don’t know what expression he saw on my face for I tried to conceal my own lustful feelings, but he gave me a knowing nod and left.

By the time I returned to the guest house most of them had turned in for the night, arranging their pallets around the fire. Pauron had saved me some bread and goat cheese. I thanked him and had my brief supper before I turned in as well.

The next day the servants arrived with breakfast shortly after we rose. We dressed, ate a light breakfast of honey on flatbread, then made ready for the day. On the practice field we compared our weaponry and drills. Despite the ubiquitous daggers worn by our hosts, the scarcity of forgeable metals in the East, thanks to Morgoth’s hungry war machine, meant the Easterlings had no swords. Their weapons consisted mainly of spears, bows, and heavy cudgels. They fought with shields of wood and inferior quality leather armor. I could see the first thing we needed to do was get them properly armed.

My guards explained the basics of swordsmanship, demonstrating the moves on the straw men the Easterlings used for practice. Their men took to the weapons right away, delighted to wield something so much lighter and more lethal than they had ever had the opportunity to use. After the straw soldiers were obliterated, we broke into groups for some light sparring. Ulfang paired with myself and though I was an experienced swordsman the sheer aggression with which he attacked was nearly my undoing. 

I managed to dodge a swing that would have removed my head from my shoulders, accidently cutting Ulfang's arm in the process. The wound was not deep but I was alarmed nonetheless. Before I could apologize, he licked the cut. Something about the way his tongue slid along the bloody slit gave me a shiver of pleasure in a way no battlefield injury ever had. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of those beefy arms with the pink tip of the tongue lapping it up so quickly. The sight made my head spin and I staggered a little.

He gifted me with an impish grin. “Can’t stand the sight of blood, eh?”

“Of course I can,” I said, more ill-humored than I intended. “I just lost my footing.”

Ulfang bandaged the cut with a strip of cloth but the memory of him licking the cut stayed with me though the rest of the day.

As the sun began to wane, we all went back to our homes and I again sent my men to the bath while I had the first of the supper. When they were all settled in for the night, I told them I was going to take a walk and went straight to the bathhouse.

I stripped off with some anticipation, took a towel off a hook and stepped into the steam room, disappointed when I saw Ulfang was not there. Taking my place on the bench I leaned back, spreading my legs in a manner both wanton and not typical of me. I sat this way for a time before I decided Ulfang would not be keeping the appointment he had set up. As I stood to leave, the curtain moved and he entered with a towel in his hand and a shameless, growing erection. Seeing his manhood rise aroused me to hardness instantly. It felt awkward but also exciting, and though my thoughts urged me to cover myself my cock had other ideas.

“It looks like we have a mutual problem,” he said with a hungry gleam in his eyes. “I don’t know how Elves resolve such matters but we have our ways.” He advanced until he was so close to me I could feel the heat radiate from him in waves like the hot stones in the brazier. I flushed with shame and arousal but did not move away. Instead I reached for him and he for me.

The hot dampness of his dark, sweaty skin under my fingers was as seductive as the heat of his cock pressing into my belly. He slid one hand down my chest then slowly licked his fingers with a wicked smile. The hand that held the towel braced against my upper arm but I was so caught up in my desire that I barely registered he had dropped it, until I saw from the corner of my eye the blade flash in his hand.

Instantly I grabbed his wrist, trying to wrest the dagger away, but he was too strong. He placed a hand on the side of my neck lightly. “Shh,” he crooned low, “This is not to harm, it is for pleasure that I brought it.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, but a part of me did. I had heard of the fetishes of men. Such things were considered disgraceful among the Elves, a mockery of the natural desires of the flesh. Shame filled my breast when the image of Ulfang licking the cut on his arm sprang unbidden to my mind. Panting, I released him and took a step back.

“Did I misjudge the look in your eyes this afternoon?” he asked with studied innocence. He removed the strip of cloth from his arm, the cut red and slightly swollen from the steam. He glanced down at my erection. “I am thinking I did not.”

“It is… not something we… I would ever do. Such desire is a corruption of Morgoth.”

Ulfang chuckled. “If that is so, why is it so rare... and stimulating? Among Men, battling an enemy, seeing the spill of his blood, can be as arousing as the touch of a lover. Elves do not feel the same?”

“It is not something we allow ourselves to feel. We do not battle for bloodlust but to rid this world of the evil that mars the hearts of all free people.”

“Noble causes, undertaken for noble purpose. It is a good way to live, but there are other ways as well. Pleasure takes many forms and the goal is not noble, it is to feel good in the moment, to feel alive. But then I suppose that is an incomprehensible concept to an immortal being.”

“We live with the fear and knowledge of loss and death. Our spirits are immortal but our bodies may suffer the same fate as Men. Feeling good in the moment is not a foreign concept.”

“Then why fight your desire? Come, let me show you how good a moment can feel.”

A dark need filled my mind, casting away all hesitation and shame. “Show me,” I said.

That night I fulfilled a desire I have never known before or since. It was as if that one person, at that singular moment, was placed in my path to allow me to experience my true self in all the darkness my name suggested.

We used the dagger to make shallow cuts upon our arms and torso, tasting the metallic tang of our blood, and eventually our semen, mingling with the sweat of our steaming bodies in complete, orgasmic abandon. Never have I experienced anything to compare to that night in the dark miasma of a tiny room, in a village of mud, on a lonely, windswept plain. I forgot all the fear and shame connected to the oath, all the responsibilities and failures that we had suffered in our foolish, unfulfillable quest. I understood then, as never before, the desire to live within one unalterable moment for eternity.

Yet such is not the fate of Men or Elves. Just as we are not forced to suffer our most detestable moment, neither are we allowed to linger in our most sublime. We finally parted that night, going our separate ways outside the building. I paused to look up at the stars, the tiny specks of light within the vast darkness a reflection of my soul.

The next day, I left early with my councilors, leaving the guards behind to continue the training. We left early without a farewell to our hosts. I couldn't stay, couldn't trade the memory of that one perfect night with any others of Ulfang. My councilors were naturally curious but I invented an excuse they found plausible and the matter was never discussed again. I kept my body covered until the wounds healed, ashamed but not penitent of my actions. I had no regrets yet no desire to fall deeper under the seductive spell of my corruption. Now I wonder, all these years later, what corruption truly means.

As I sit here contemplating the past, we prepare for an attack on Menegroth to gain one of the Silmarils. The oath weighs heavier upon me with each passing year but there are no choices left for us. Our battles have come to naught, our followers have suffered and died for our folly, yet still we are compelled to play out our doom. I do not want to be involved in more death but the decision has been made and we march forth tonight. 

Ulfang did not live to betray Maedhros in the _Nirnaeth Arnoediad_ , he died two years to the day of our meeting, the victim of a fever contracted when wounded during a sword exercise. Perhaps it was a tragic accident as reported, or perhaps his sons saw a hesitation or reluctance in him to carry out Morgoth’s plans and did the deed themselves. All the Easterling soldiers were killed in the battle, but the people admitted their leaders had been in the employ of Morgoth when they came to our lands. 

Of course, I like to think Ulfang might have had second thoughts based on our night together. I will never know for sure. Perhaps I changed him in some way, I know he changed me. Even through the bitterness of our corruption we were able to recognize within each other a mutual strength, respect, and devotion to our people. Though different in almost every way possible, it was our similarities that allowed us to share ourselves with each other in a way so unique it will live fondly and forever in my memory.


End file.
